


Is It OK for Men to...

by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Always the Little Spoon Stiles, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Upset Stiles Stilinski, Worried Derek, fluffy fluff of fluffiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenNara/pseuds/Little%20Spoon
Summary: Malia left him.Lydia broke up with him.Maybe something was fundamentally wrong with him. After all, he always was the little spoon.





	Is It OK for Men to...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Axes 'Is it ok for men to be' campaign.

Uncertainty was Stiles' middle name. He didn't have a great deal of self-confidence, and he spent the majority of his waking and an alarmingly growing portion of his unwaking moments in a state of constant anxiety. 

It was a little after 2 AM, and Stiles, shockingly enough, hadn't moved in hours. He currently faced a  puzzling quandary that he didn't have an answer to. The glow of the empty Google search screen mocked him in the dark as he drummed his fingers against his desk. When in doubt, turn to the internet to answer all your pervert, uncomfortable, embarrassing questions about the inner workings of your own psyche. 

The cursor steadily blinked in the search bar.

If he was any kind of man, Stiles would do what he did best and surf the interweb, delve into the recesses of the odd and weird, and wrangle a satisfactory answer. But what if the answer he found wasn't the answer he wanted? What if Malia and Lydia were right? Maybe he was weird. 

Scrubbing his hand across his face, Stiles leant forward in his desk chair until his chin nearly rested on the edge of the desk. He stared at the white screen until the brightness burned into his eyes and they watered.

Stiles flung himself back in his chair, dragging a hand through his hair. "Fuck," he groaned. "I'm pathetic. Just do it. Just fucking do it."

There was a slight tremble to his hands as Stiles typed his query into the search bar and swallowed.

_Is it ok for men to be the little spoon?_

Stiles' finger hovered over the command key and closed his eyes to summon the courage to press down.

"Yes," a soft voice said from behind Stiles.

Stiles shrieked. His knee painfully collided with the underside of his desk, and he tumbled off his chair onto the floor where his elbow smashed into the floor. He landed in a heap of limbs. Groaning, he pushed himself up onto his unbruised elbow, heart thundering in his chest, and glared at the unannounced late-night intruder.

"The fuck, Derek," Stiles snapped. His limbs ached. "We talked about this. What are you doing here anyway? Is someone dying? Oh god, someone's dying aren't they?"

Derek stood in the corner of the room with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, and his eyes glowing in the dark. "Your heart was beating faster than normal," he said, by way of explanation, which really explained nothing. 

Stiles snorted. "If it wasn't before, it sure as hell is now," Stiles said as he staggered to his feet. "Jesus Christ, man."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Derek murmured, ducking his head to avoid Stiles' gaze.

"Ah, hell," Stiles said. He rubbed his heart still pounded uncomfortably against his ribcage. Derek looked so much like a kicked puppy that Stiles didn't have the heart to truly reprimand him, or even tell him to leave. Instead, he sighed and flopped down onto the edge of his bed.

On a Tuesday night in the middle of the summer, Derek had no reason to be anywhere near Stiles' place, or even on this side of town, which could only mean one thing. Since Stiles' dad was on shift for the night due to another dramatic loss of personnel, Derek had decided to check up on Stiles who was alone until 7 AM. Stiles may not have been a teenager anymore, but Derek's concern made him grin at the werewolf, who was scowling at the floor.

"You know it is okay though, right?" Derek suddenly said.

"What?" Stiles squinted Derek.

Derek looked up. His eyes were no longer glowing. "To be the little spoon."

Stiles' stomach dropped. "Uh, yeah. Sure," he mumbled. He picked at a loose thread on his summer blanket.

Stiles jumped against when Derek strode across the room and slammed the laptop closed. The room was plunged into darkness. Stiles could only faintly make out Derek's outline from the dim light of the street lamp spilling into the room.

"Lie down." Derek's gruff demand left no room for argument.

Stiles' eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark, and he heard the sound of shoes hitting the floor before he saw Derek's silhouette shrug out of his leather jacket and toss it over the back of the desk chair.

A hand grabbed Stiles by the arm. "Hey, wait! What are you doing?" Stiles protested as the much strong werewolf manhandled him onto his side and moulded himself to his back.

Arms snug around Stiles' chest, Derek pressed his nose to the back of Stiles' neck and sighed. "Being your big spoon."

Stiles' brain may have short circuited. Either that, or he was dreaming because in what universe would Derek Hale, resident sourwolf, spoon him in his bed after coming through the window to check on him because he was worried. It just didn't add up. It had to be a trick. The person currently cuddling the shit out of him wasn't Derek. It couldn't be.

Sure, Derek had been different since he came back to Beacon Hills - they all were - but this was more the case of the body snatchers because there wasn't a chance in hell that Derek Hale would be caught spooning Stiles 'the spazz' Stilinski unless his body had been possessed by an unknown puckish entity.

"Stop thinking," Derek said.

"Excuse me?" Stiles screeched and tried to roll over, but the arms around his middle and the hand on his chest kept him firmly in place snug against Derek's chest.

"I can practically hear the incessant buzzing," Derek yawned. "I haven't been possessed or body snatched."

Stiles stiffened, because holy shit, Derek could hear his thoughts.

"I'm not a mind reader," Derek snorted. "Sadly, I just know you extremely well, so stop thinking, and go to sleep."

Stiles sputtered for a moment before he settled down with a final huff. 

Soft puffs of air tickled the back of Stiles' neck. Derek was warm against his back, chest rising and falling gently with every breath, and his body curved perfectly, following the contours of Stiles' body. Stiles swallowed. He could feel the firmness of muscles hidden under the ridiculously tight Henley, but he wasn't uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. 

Stiles forced out a shaky breath as his body fell slack in Derek's embrace. "So...I'm not weird?"

"Well..."

Stiles elbowed Derek in the stomach, and the werewolf chuckled in his ear.

"No," Derek finally said. "Being the little spoon doesn't make you weak. Everyone likes to feel safe and wanted."

"Even you?" Stiles whispered.

"Yeah," Derek said. Stiles could hear the smile in his voice. "Even me. Now shut up and go to sleep."

**Author's Note:**

> You can stalk me on Tumblr here: [Always the Little Spoon](http://always-the-little-spoon.tumblr.com/)


End file.
